Break Me
by Anagram for Grace
Summary: Jace and OC one shot. A bit more into the "to love is destroy" thing. I don't really know what else to put here so... snow!


**Just the same character's from my story Exist, same connections to each other but NOT the same plot. This is just a random thing I came up with because I was bored.**

**I do not own The Mortal Instruments.**

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It was cold. Snow was drifting down, getting caught in her hair before she raised her hood, hiding her face from the world. He couldn't explain why he was disappointed, it's not like he could see her face anyway from where he walked, just a half step behind her. But now not even a trace of her shimmering brown locks could be seen as they passed under the dull glow of street lights.

"It's cold," Jace complained finally.

"I hadn't noticed," her voice drifted back to him in its usual sarcastic tone.

Jace grinned to himself and decided to play along. "Really? That's terrible. There must be something medically wrong with you."

"And we all know there's something mentally wrong with you. We get along great, don't you think?" She had finally paused in a yellow pool of light, staring up at the sky and not looking at him like he'd hoped she might. "There are no stars," she murmured.

Jace didn't even bother to look. "There never are any stars."

At last her large hazel eyes turned to him. She was beautiful, not that she would ever believe him if he tried to tell her. And not that he would ever try to tell her. Long brown hair fell in gentle waves around her face which still held a trace of its summer tan. The tangle of black lashes and the sharp thin eyebrows added accents to the insightful eyes. And her lips. Full and twisted up into her one-sided smirk she reserved just for him.

"You're staring," she pointed out. One of her hands moved up automatically towards her face, brushing an imagined eyelash off of her cheek.

Jace played along with it. "You got it." And turned and walked again, her soft footfalls behind him. As he walked he kept the image of her face fresh in his mind. Why wouldn't she believe anyone who tried to complement her? And what was it about her that he found so much more appealing than any other girl? Weren't Clary and Isabelle beautiful too?

But he knew the reason why. Isabelle used her beauty as a weapon and Clary made believe hers didn't exist. But Jaelyn… She didn't seem like she cared either way. As though her appearance was separate from herself, a casual acquaintance.

She drew out a shuddering sigh. "Are we there yet?"

"No," he answered without looking. "And we never will be. We'll always be here, never there because wherever you are is here and wherever you're not is there."

Jaelyn was quiet for awhile, watching the snowflakes, occasionally catching one on her tongue. "You know, most people would think you're delusional," she said after such a long pause that she wondered if Jace even remembered what they were talking about.

He scoffed. "Most people would call me some sort of genius."

"I don't see it."

Jace turned to face her, displaying his genius-ness. Jaelyn cocked her head to one side and studied him, looking unimaginably adorable.

"Nope, still nothing."

"Maybe you should look closer?" he suggested, stepping closer to her.

Her eyebrows shot up, disappearing in her shock of side swept bangs. He realized his error immediately, and removed his hands from her hips where they had gone of their own accord.

Jaelyn was faster. She snagged his hands and brought them to her lips, blowing on them once she felt how cold they were. "You're freezing."

He shrugged, leaving his hands in her grasp. "It's cold."

"You said that."

"You're not cold," he stated.

Her lips, still against his frozen fingers turned up. "That, my dear, is because I know how to employ the use of pockets."

My dear. He couldn't believe it, she'd called him _dear_. Which, he had to admit, was odd seeing as the only people who ever used the phrase "my dear" were all male, and by this point, dead. But still it was an endearment. Even if she used it lightly with her friends, she'd never said it to him. In fact, ever since the fight she had been exceptionally careful about what she said to him.

Jace could remember everything about that scene he'd walked in on. The two girls were standing almost ten feet apart, Clary's fists had been clenched and her eyes were blazing, face the same red as her hair from her anger. And then there had been Jaelyn. She had been standing with rigidly perfect posture, head high in defiance, a couple of feverish splotches of angry pink on her cheeks. Not to mention the fingernails scratches that ran diagonally across her neck.

"Don't worry, Clarissa," she had said acidly. "It won't happen again."

He had followed Jaelyn like he normally did to try and find out what exactly had happened, but for once her locked door remained locked. And now, even with the two of them standing less than a foot apart, he felt like she was more distant than ever.

Jaelyn seemed to become aware that she still held Jace's hands and let them drop awkwardly, quickly walking away. Trying to tear her thoughts from the beautiful golden boy beside her. She had promised. No matter what Jace did, no matter how she felt, she had promised. _Not by the Angel_, a small voice whispered.

She was acutely aware of his shoulder, brushing hers occasionally, and of the golden eyes that sometimes moved to catch her own. He was perfect, and completely and hopelessly unattainable thanks to her own restraints. And she was just going to have to live with that, forget about her own emotions and do what was best for Clary. Again.

"Are we lost?" She broke the silence, a thousand other conversations playing through her head.

"I am _never _lost," Jace said haughtily.

Jaelyn rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"Do you doubt me?" he asked, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

He stared into her eyes, wondering wildly what her soft lips tasted like. What those unnaturally long lashes would feel like, brushing against his cheek. Encouraged by some part of him he didn't know, he cupped her face in his hands and bent to kiss her.

But she broke away. They stood there for a long moment; the boy breathing raggedly staring at the girl with her back to him, hugging herself as though she were cold.

"Jaelyn-" he began.

"Clary loves you," she cut him off, still keeping her back to him and holding back the threat of tears. She hated when she cried.

"What?"

"Clary loves you," Jaelyn repeated, looking up towards the blank sky for help.

"What does that have anything to do with this?" His hand reached out to touch her shoulder but she shied away.

"Everything, Jace. Don't you get it?" She finally turned to face him and he saw the tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

"Get what? I still don't see what that has to do with right now."

"God, Jace," she cried in exasperation, "you're an idiot."

Jace didn't like being insulted, even by Jaelyn. Especially by emotional Jaelyn.

"Idiot? Isn't that a nice thought?" he drawled.

Jaelyn threw her head back and moaned. "No, _I'm _an idiot," she corrected herself.

"An idiot?" he continued in that same drawling tone, seeing the effect it had on her. "Why would you say such a thing, _my dear_?"

Jaelyn seemed to flinch as he flung her own casual endearment back at her, drenched in sarcasm. "You wouldn't ever understand," she said dryly. "Come on, we have to get to Magnus's."

"We have time," he said dismissively.

Her sharp gaze turned on him. "I don't know why I agreed to come with you. Especially since you're only being a pretentious a-"

"Tsk tsk," he cut across her. "Pretty little girls shouldn't say such bad words."

"You, are insufferable," she said, pronouncing each syllable distinctly.

"Not as bad as you, Jaci."

The use of that pet name did its work. Her gaze turned quizzical and her head tilted, the hood falling off. No one called her Jaci anymore. She had demanded they call her Jaelyn after the mysterious fight with Clary. Jace personally hadn't much liked the change, as annoying as Izzy had been about the whole Jace and Jaci thing, he kind of liked it.

"Tell me what's wrong," he ordered. "You used to tell me everything."

"We used to be friends," she pointed out softly.

"Used to be?"

The following silence was terrible, but it gave Jace the necessary time to arrange his perfect mask. Nothing mattered to him, ever. Why should this be any different?

"Jace, I-" She seemed unable to go on, looking at anything but him.

Suddenly, he knew what she was going to say and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her soft hair. It all made sense. Perfectly and in the most wonderful way _he knew_. Hope flooded him, but then came crashing down devastatingly at the thought of his father. He released her and stepped away.

"To love is to destroy," he whispered.

Jaelyn's thoughts turned to Clary, thinking of how Jace had ripped them apart. They had once been so close and now Clary planned to go away, to Idris, and she wanted Magnus to create the portal. Only Simon would be going with her. The two girls hadn't spoken since the fight where Clary had told Jaelyn that she was in love with Jace and that Jaelyn ruined it all. Yes, to love was to destroy.

"Jace," she said softly, stepping towards him. What did she have to lose? Clary was exiling herself and Simon from wherever Jaelyn was. She had already lost the person who meant the most to her. Luke and Jocelyn no longer had any time of day to give her, Isabelle was preoccupied with another faerie knight and Alec just flat out did not like her. She had pushed Jace away and in doing so had secured her isolation, creating a cell of solitary confinement. And now she was determined to tear the walls down.

"Jace," she repeated.

His golden eyes narrowed in surprise as she kissed him on the cheek.

"To love is to destroy," he said softly, holding her close to him hesitantly, as though afraid just a touch would cause her to shatter.

She stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.

"Break me."


End file.
